


landslide

by INTPSlytherin_reylove97



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Adopted Children, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Children, Dogs, Estrangement, F/M, Family Drama, Family Issues, Gen, Good Parent Han Solo, Grandparents & Grandchildren, Married Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Meeting the Parents, Minor Leia Organa/Han Solo, Modern Era, Protective Parents, Reconciliation, Rey Needs A Hug, Rey and Ben adopt everyone, Skywalker Family Drama, Skywalker Family Feels, Soft Ben Solo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:35:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23516281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INTPSlytherin_reylove97/pseuds/INTPSlytherin_reylove97
Summary: Leia’s eyes could not help but drift to her neighbor’s yard.Beautiful house. One designed with a keen eye and large enough to house an army, yet quaint enough to feel homey.She had yet to see anyone roam about, enter, or leave the large two-story house next to her and Han’s. When they’d initially went house hunting, she asked if the Spanish style home was on the market.“Oh, no,” Gwen Phasma, their realtor was quick to reply, “the owners renovated that place for themselves. They’re flippers; great couple. Moved in a few of years back.”And that was the extent of the information.Little did she know the 'great couple' happened to be her estranged son, Ben, and his family. A family she had never met.
Relationships: Leia Organa & Han Solo, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 224
Kudos: 412
Collections: Reylo Prompt Fills (@reylo_prompts)





	1. Neighbors

**Author's Note:**

> Heeyyy.
> 
> I saw this prompt on Reylo Prompts: When Han and Leia moved into their new house their neighbors were on vacation. When they return at the end of the week, Han and Leia are shocked to find that the occupants of the house are their son, Ben who they haven’t seen in years, and his family they never met.
> 
> I had the beginning, middle, and the end of the fic all formed up in my mind three seconds after reading and wrote this two hours later because I could not help myself.
> 
> So yeahhh….
> 
> Typos will be fixed later. Enjoy :D

* * *

As the morning sun peeked through the neighborhood, Leia’s eyes could not help but drift to her neighbor’s yard. Maintained grass, nice shrubbery in the front yard, handled with the skill of a professional landscaper. The cornflower blue tiled stairs leading up to the front door shined in welcome in the dawn.

Beautiful house. One designed with a keen eye and large enough to house an army, yet quaint enough to feel homey.

She had yet to see anyone roam about, enter, or leave the large two-story house next to her and Han’s. When they’d initially went house hunting, she asked if the Spanish style home was on the market.

“Oh, no,” Gwen Phasma, their realtor was quick to reply, “the owners renovated that place for themselves. They’re flippers; great couple. Moved in a few of years back.”

And that was the extent of the information.

She’d been trying to catch either half of the couple since she and Han moved in, hoping to talk shop. Her husband had once upon a time been a carpenter, stuck on fixing any issues and handling renovations himself despite not handling a hammer and nail in the last thirty years. Leia at least wanted to see if the local flippers had any advice on how to go about renovations for stubborn DIY-ers.

Yet on each morning and afternoon walk that week, Leia was surprised to see the driveway empty.

Apparently her wandering finally caught another neighbor’s attention.

“You’re new in the neighborhood right?” the woman asked, a soft British lit to her voice. She’s been unlocking her mail box at the end of the street, Leia doing the same. “I live catty-corner from you,” she stuck her hand out, a light grin on her face, “Jyn Erso.”

Leia shook her hand with ease, introducing herself as well. “Leia Organa—”

“You’re that famous interior designer,” Jyn interjected, surprised, “I thought you were stationed in L.A. or something?”

“Ah,” Leia chuckled under her breath, “when your husband has a heart-attack and the doctor says maybe slowing down and some fresh air is needed, a big move upstate happens.” She shrugged, hoping to act like it wasn’t that big of deal. Because it wasn’t. She and Han had planned to move in retirement…they were just diving into the parts of the lifestyle a few years earlier than anticipated.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Jyn winced, genuine sympathy in her eyes, “that must be difficult. Well, I hope you are settling in alright. Usually, Rey would be all over that. She’s a giver, that one.”

“Who?” Leia blinked, the name unfamiliar.

Jyn smile brightened, gesturing back down the road. “Your neighbor to the right—Rey Williams. She’s usually on top of welcoming people into the neighborhood and all that community shtick. Cares a lot. Her husband is another story, but Ben’s a good bloke.”

Leia remained neutral at the name— _Ben_.

It’d been years. Over twenty. But that didn’t mean the scar didn’t still sting.

Ben just had to be a god-awful common name, this not the first time nor would be the last she met someone who shared her son’s birth name.

“The flipper’s right?” Leia asked, shoving her key into lock of her mail box.

“Yup, Rey and Ben. They have their business. Small, but lucrative. And I think he does some other architecture things on the side?” Jyn’s brows furrowed, before waving it off. “Anyways super busy family, but they always make time for their kids. You should count this time as a blessing. Living near a family with six kids and five animals is _intense_.”

“Six kids?” Leia uttered. “Five animals?” She grabbed the postcard—from Luke, congratulating her on the move from wherever he happened to be in the world—and slammed the mail box shut. “I could barely handle raising one, and that turned out…” she titled her head side to side, “it turned out debatable.”

Jyn chortled at the remark. “I wish I can say the same, but my husband Cassian and I are content with our own zoo of animals. I have a penchant for adopting every sorry looking pup that walks into my clinic.”

“I wish I would have done the same,” Leia confessed. “But I wouldn’t trade having a kid of anything.” She and Jyn began walking back down their street, her eyes landing on her neighbor’s house up ahead. “Why haven’t they been home, if I can ask?”

“Annual summer vacation,” Jyn answered with ease, “each year the entire family goes off for two week vacation to a cabin by the beach. Cut themselves off from the world just to spend time with each other. It’s sweet and the only major trip they make in the year. You lucked on moving in this week.”

Leia smiled at the mention of a cabin by the beach. She and Han would do the same for Ben when he was a child; carve out time in the year to go off just the three of them.

However, once her career took off and Han ventured into the automotive business, little vacations to the beach fell out of practice.

In fact, Leia could not remember the last time they went on a vacation together, just the three of them.

Upon reaching her own home, a small two-story Victorian inspired house, Leia said her goodbyes to Jyn and headed back in.

“Any mail?” Han called from the kitchen. He’d been getting into cooking as of late, Leia forcing him to look up more heart-healthy meals since his episode a few months back. He wasn’t the best, but he was far better than her, so that accounted for something.

“Just a postcard from Luke,” Leia announced as she entered the kitchen.

She squinted down at the sloppy handwriting— _Hope you are settling in well! Might actually be able to make it to Christmas this year!_

A habitual eyeroll came over her, the empty promise of Christmas once again thrown into the conversation. She invited Luke every year, yet he never made the trip. Ben was the same, radio silence until she received an email informing her the address had been deactivated.

Her last remaining flesh and blood in the world, and they didn’t want to see her.

It was fine. She could make do for years, then she could make do for the rest of her life.

“Apparently, he’s back in Ireland if the postcard is anything to go by.” She pulled a stainless steel magnet off the refrigerator, and stuck the postcard on the smooth, spotless surface.

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Han said, a sour laugh at the end of his words. “He always did like it more than any other place in the world.” He finished tossing the sun tomato salad and set the plate of egg salad sandwiches out in the center of the island.

Their dinning table had yet to arrive, her mother’s antique piece taking the longest to travel due to its sensitivity. Eating on barstools at the kitchen island was the normal for the time being, not that either minded. Less space to be between them.

“Have you gone outside today?” Leia asked before she sat down at the barstool.

The guilt on his face was enough of an answer, Leia picking up the plate of sandwiches along with the bowls and utensils set out for their salad. “I think eating out on the porch, where we can breath in the summer breeze and enjoy the decent weather would be good.”

“Ey Ey captain,” Han grumbled. This was the most time they’d spent with each other in months, and the tension was beginning to wane on them. However, Leia ignored it. She needed to make sure her husband was taking care of himself, and if that meant pushing his buttons and for trying in their marriage again, then so be it.

Exiting the house, the two set their food down on the small porch table and chairs. A quick purchase from a Target, Leia before never having the need or desire to sit outside with her busy schedule. Han thought it was unnecessary, preferring to just sit on the stairs of the porch, but the aches and popping of his bones screamed otherwise.

Just as they began digging into their lunch, two cars—a SUV and truck—drove past their house and eased into the driveway next door.

“Oh, people _do_ live there,” Han muttered, a twinge of a joke in the silence of their meals.

“Must be back from their vacation—one of the neighbors mentioned it,” Leia explained, her eyes lifting away from her food and their neighbors.

_“GET OFF ME!”_ came screeching the moment the SUV backseat door opened. A young girl tumbled out of the car, shoving away the teenage girl charging after her. “ _I DID’T TAKE YOUR EARBUDS!”_

“WELL SOMEBODY DID!” The teenager cried out, chasing the girl around the front yard. “You were the last one to have them, Avery!” She caught the girl within moments, holding the squirming girl up on the air, little legs kicking.

“Mommy! Lizzie is hurting me!”

“Lizzie! Avery!” The driver’s side door slammed closed, a dark haired woman in her early thirties running towards the two girls. She looked a little frazzled, hair a mess and flannel half falling over her shoulder in her haste. “What have I said about fighting? We do not fight in this house—no flying fists,” she wretched the smaller girl from the teenager’s arms, “no picking up our smaller opponents. None of that!”

“She started it!”

“She took my earbuds!”

More kids climbed out of the SUV. A young boy, no older than ten, holding on to a small puff of a dog. His moppy light brown curls fell into his face, in dire need of a haircut. A five year old girl, small with perfect little braids bouncing on the back of her head, marched after him. A teddy bear remained tucked under arm, worn and faded. Another small dog, black and short-haired, followed after the two yipping and yapping on his leash.

From the truck, an older boy ambled out, two massive dogs—Labrador mixes by the looks of it—dashing out.

“ _Damn it!_ ” The man in the truck cried out, climbing out and away from Leia’s view. “Diego, close the front gate before the dogs get out!”

The teenager, Diego, raced towards the front of the yard, shooing back the dogs as rolled driveway gate closed.

“I don’t care _why_!” The woman roared, the girls’ bickering overpowering and insistent. “Lizzie, are you sure you didn’t leave them at the cabin?”

“Mommy! My tummy!” Another young voice cried out, small and wobbly.

The woman glanced back to the SUV, the stubborn girl still in her arms. She was struggling, looking beyond out of breath. “BEN! A LITTLE HELP HERE!”

“I’M TAKING CARE OF THE DOGS AND UNLOADING THE TRUCK—”

“I DON’T GIVE A DAMN WHAT YOU ARE DOING—”

“ _MOMMY!”_

“Ew! I think Max threw up!” One of the children cried out amongst the chaos.

The woman set the girl in her arms down, running back to the SUV. The man on the other side of the truck, however made it there first, the left side backseat door thrown open as he unbuckled the youngest child from the bunch.

Seeing, her husband had it under control, the woman began ushering the kids back inside while the two older children remained back to help unload the truck and SUV.

As the man rounded the corner, the soiled toddler in his arms, Leia’s heart stopped.

Older, with facial hair and no-longer sporting a bowl cut, was _Ben_.

Strong shoulders and arms, his lanky and awkward form filled out into one resembling his father’s in his prime. His dorky glasses were gone and a wedding band glistened under the summer sun.

The last time she’d seen him—

_“I’m leaving and I’m taking that internship! I don’t fucking care what you say!”_

He was upset, left with a slamming door and a promise to never come back.

One he kept for well over twenty-years.

Ignored emails, postcards, phone calls. Each coming to a dead end.

His name didn’t come up on the internet, no social media presence or mention. At least there wasn’t the last time she checked, some odd five to seven years ago.

Yet there he was, in the flesh.

Next door, with a family of his own.

Ben didn’t bother to spare a glance to any one, his sole focus on calming down the crying toddler in his arms and wiping up the mess on the boy’s chest with a measly wipe-y for the time being.

Never in her life did she imagine her son to be fatherly in the slightest. He’d been stubborn, and moody, and recoiled at the mention of love, kids, families. Without fail, he’d remind them they were never going to be grandparents by his doing.

That was not for him.

She chuckled at the time, telling him his opinion on all of it—kids, family, etc—would change when he was older.

For some time she believed that wasn’t the case. That he stayed with Snoke all these years, working as an architect for a behemoth, corporate company that did not give a shit about him. A company that only wanted to use him and his talent.

Believing he was still stuck in that cycle, partially that young, fresh face kid too stubborn to see through the wool over his face, soothed her in some ways.

To know he could still come back and see the wrong and they could fix whatever was broken in their family.

But to see him now—

To see he somehow figured it out on his own, presumably left Snoke, and made his own business. To see he found a woman he loved and they had a family together. To see that he was good at being part of a family; better than anyone expected of him, and looked….happy. Happier than she’d ever had seen him.

—that hurt like hell.

“Are you…seeing what I’m seeing?” Han’s voice shattered her musings.

“That our son lives next door? Yes.”

“Thank god, I thought I was hallucinating. I read somewhere that can be side effect to my medication.”

“You can’t get hallucinations, Han,” Leia scolded lightly, eyes stilled locked on where Ben stood. “How are you not freaking out?” she breathed. Her appetite was gone, and it took all her strength to not run next door and face her son. To see him up close and be assured he was real.

“I…” Han glanced back to the house.

The woman—Rey, Leia’s mind finally supplied—was back outside, grabbing a plastic tote from the back of the truck. The two teenagers were handling the SUV, closing the back once all the duffle bags and backpacks had been collected.

As though feeling someone watching her, Rey looked up from her path.

A brilliant smile shined back to them, she moving to the fence diving their yards.

Panic spiked in Leia as she came closer.

“Oh, hello!” Rey called, a vague accent to her voice. Leia could identify the British undertones, but the dialect was faded. As though it had been years since the woman had been in her native country. “Sorry about that! They’re usually more behaved than that,” she added with a chuckle. She squinted up at them, Leia realizing she and Han being in the shade perhaps made it difficult for Rey to see them. “I’m Rey, by the way. Just wanted to say hello! Happy to see the Johnson house finally sold. Moved in this week, yeah?”

“Yes,” Leia said, surprisingly strong and sure. “Just this week. Still have plenty of work to do, but enjoying…the sun,” she finished lamely.

Rey’s smile diminished when Leia fell silent, no doubt expecting her to introduce herself and her husband. But she didn’t push the matter, stepping closer to them. Leia remained seated and Han still and shoving more food into his mouth.

“Well, if you need any help, let us know. We have plenty of hands around here, and my husband, Ben, is usually around. He’d be happy to held.”

“I’m sure he would.” Leia was curt, yet Rey didn’t flinch. Just nodded once and stepped back.

“Okay then. I have some unpacking to do,” Rey nodded back to her house, picking up her forgotten tote, “Have a good afternoon, Ms…” She trailed off, prompting Leia.

“Organa,” Leia relented.

Rey froze, her resilient cheery smile fading.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” she shook her head, confusion shadowing her gaze, “I thought I heard you say your name was—”

“Organa. Yes.”

“Oh.” Rey took another step back.

She tried to force a smile, but it fell flat.

Leia could see in an instant why Ben fell for the woman. She could not lie to save her life; he always did value honesty above all.

Rey swallowed tightly. “Well, then have a good afternoon,” she settled on, nodding once to her.

Turning on her heel, she marched back into the house.

She didn’t look back.

Looking back down at her food, Leia sighed. “You think she knows?”

Han scoffed into his bowl, all the tomatoes in his salad gone. “What the fuck do you think?”

Leia groaned, dropping her head into her hands.

What the hell were they going to do?


	2. Just Fine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who read the first chapter and is sticking around for this ride. I am blown away by the response and the love received in the comments! All of it warms my heart <3
> 
> Anyways, here is the next chapter! We get a peek into the chaotic Solo household.
> 
> Typos will be fixed later.
> 
> Enjoy :D

* * *

Standing outside the laundry room, Rey watched as Ben attempted to scrub out the vomit stains from Max’s t-shirt. The road was just a tad bit too bumpy for the little guy, stirring up his tummy.

Her husband cursed under his breath, the stain stubborn. “Goddamn it, I’ll just toss it.” He crumpled up the shirt in one fist, read to chuck it into the garbage bin.

“I wouldn’t do that. It’s his favorite shirt,” Rey chimed. Stepping into the room, she nudged the door closed behind her, knowing their kids to be little eavesdroppers.

He looked up at the sound her voice, a small and defeated smile sent her way. “There is no saving this. He has spit-up, got mud, and whatever the hell else he has gotten into, all over this shirt. It is time to toss it.”

“Maybe we can keep it as a sleep shirt,” Rey argued, taking the worn and loved shirt away from him, “at least until Max grows out of it.”

The compulsion to disagree flashed over his face before he nodded, letting her take the offended piece of clothing. “Fine by me.” He turned away and pulled over the trash bags tossed over by the backdoor. “I tell them to sort the clothes and what do they do—just throw them in here.” His mutterings made her chuckle, Rey trying her best to nod along as he continued. “It was a simple request. Sort the clothes between darks and lights. Not that hard.”

“You are right, Love. Absolutely right,” she assured him as she turned on the washer and deposited detergent. She dropped Max’s stained shirt into the running water and began digging into one of the trash bags of dirty laundry along with Ben. Bright clothes were thrown into the load, a mix of the young kids’ laundry.

As usual, Ben checked for stains, prepared to scrub them away. He was methodical about certain tasks, laundry at the top of the list. Breaking the news of her discovery now was perhaps her best option.

“So…” she drawled out, watching as Ben scrubbed away at a stained pair of denim jeans, Avery’s by the looks of it. “I met the neighbors.”

“Oh, really?” He glanced up at her, a smirk tugging on the corner of his mouth. “Are they snooty? I told you only snooty people would go for a house like that. The work it would need, the structure. It is not built to be a family home.”

“And yet you still wanted to put in a bid?” she teased.

“The exterior is nice,” Ben mumbled, “everyone loves a good Victorian style home. Could have completely gutted out the inside and made it more mainstream and livable for the average household.”

Rey rolled her eyes; Ben just could not help himself, always needing to let his imagination run wild.

“Anyways,” he huffed, nodding a piece of loose hair away from his face, “you met the neighbors?” he prompted, looking up at her expectantly.

“Uh, yes,” Rey blurted out, leaning against the dryer, “I did.”

“And?” He raised an eyebrow. When Rey didn’t answer, his scrubbing came to halt. “Did…did something happen?”

“Yes and no?” she eked out.

Ben frowned. “It’s either a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’. There isn’t an in-between, Rey.”

He wasn’t going to do anything or let her get away unless she elaborated. Damn him.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Rey forced herself to face him. “They’re an older couple.”

“Lots of older folks live here.”

“And…” she rubbed at her wrist, an old case of nervous hives tingling in the sensitive skin, “and she said her name was ‘Organa’.”

The air in the tiny laundry room thickened, Rey afraid to look away from her husband. She need to be ready for when he cracked, cried, yelled—anything.

Ben blinked. “Okay.”

His voice cracked.

Her heart ached at the sound.

An awkward huff of a laugh came from the back of his throat, Ben’s shoulders caving in on him. He turned back to the jeans he’d been working on, resuming his scrubbing.

Except harder.

Exceptionally harder. He was causing the dryer he was using as a surface to shake.

“Plenty of people have the last name Organa—”

“I thought you said it was rare. That it was your mother’s adoptive name—”

His head snapped to her, eyes wide. “Other people can have it. Not just my—” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “—that woman. Other people _can_ have that name. Not just her. I’m sure it is a coincidence.”

“You’re right,” Rey said, cautious with her words. “Other people can have that name. Maybe it is a coincidence.”

She rested a gentle hand on his vicious scrubbing.

Ben stilled.

“But maybe humor my paranoia for a moment,” she asked. Her hand rested on the back of his, firm and steady. “Perhaps it is… _them_ ,” Rey shrugged, playing along with this very plausible scenario they found themselves in, “here are some factors. They moved in next door. They are an older couple. The man looked older than her, as far as I can tell. She said her name was ‘Organa.’”

“Did…did she say anything else?” came his quiet question.

“No,” Rey answered, honest, “a bit tight lipped on her end. The man didn’t say anything either.”

“Then maybe it isn’t them.” His shoulders relaxed, though tension remained strained around his neck.

“But what if it is?” She probed, gently taking the scrubber away from him. Picking up the jeans, she set them out on the edge of the sink to soak. “What if the couple next door are your parents? What are we going to do?”

He blinked once.

Then twice.

“Then we stay the fuck away.”

Ben grabbed the scrubber and began digging back into the dirty laundry.

Rey sighed, wiping her face. “Ben, you can’t just ignore them—”

“I need to do the laundry. Why don’t you get dinner started? Or maybe just order pizza? I don’t know,” he muttered distractedly. “I just _need_ to do laundry, Sweetheart.”

She chewed hard on the inside of her cheek. He only called her ‘Sweetheart’ when he was frustrated or upset, a habit he had since they first started dating and one he never broke out of no matter how many times Rey made it a point to tell him. It was some bad instinct ingrained in him that just couldn’t shake off.

“Fine,” Rey uttered, arms crossed over her chest. “Do the laundry. I’ll order pizza. But we are not done talking—even if it takes us all evening and all night.”

“I know.” Ben stood back up, facing her. He reached for her, pulling her into his arms. She fell into his embrace with ease, second nature to curl into him. “I know, Sunflower.” Her lips twitched at the name—now _that_ term of endearment turned her insides into melted butter. “I just need time to…process, if our paranoia is right.”

Resting her chin on his chest, she peered up at him, rubbing small circles into his back. “I know, Love. I just don’t want you to bottle up, or find out later, or anything terrible—”

“Shh,” he muttered against her temple. “I’ll be fine. Just give me time—”

“ _I KNEW YOU HAD THEM_!”

A loud crash came from upstairs, Rey and Ben flinching at the noise.

“ _Mommy! Daddy! Lizzie hit me_!”

“ _I didn’t hit you! She’s lying_!”

A high pitched cry rang through the house, followed by more running.

“It was too quiet,” Ben muttered, pulling away from Rey, “it was too, too quiet. I should have known.”

She patted his chest lovingly. “I’ll handle it. You take care of the laundry.”

Taking a deep breath, she braced herself and marched off to the chaos upstairs.

“ _What did I say about running in the house!”_

* * *

Ben was going to go stir-crazy not knowing.

After each stained piece of clothing was thoroughly scrubbed, even Diego and Lizzie’s clothes, he digging into the hampers in their rooms to find articles of clothing, Ben went on the hunt for another task.

So he cleaned the cat’s litter box. Usually a job reserved for Josie, the fury tabby demon her pet, but Ben happily relieved his youngest girl from the job that night.

However the task was accomplished in record time. Within moments, Ben found himself scrubbing the tiles in the kitchen while the kids shoved their faces with pizza at the dining table.

“Mom,” Carter whispered, leaning over his twin, Avery, “is Dad okay?”

“He’s fine, Car,” Rey quickly answered, serving the ten year old another slice. “Just wants to make sure the house is super clean. Here you go, my buddy. Eat up.”

“Do you need help, Daddy?” Josie’s little voice pipped up, wiping away the pizza sauce on her chin with her sleeve as she did so.

Ben withered inside at the sight. “Daddy is _fine_ ,” he uttered, his word sharper than he intended. He tossed the sponge in the sink, it squelching against the steel. “Daddy is perfectly fine.” To prove his point, he went to the table and picked up a slice of peperoni, mushroom, and olive pizza. He took a big bite, chewing loud and proud. “See? Daddy is fine! Just fine!”

“Um,” Diego glanced over to Rey, eyebrows creasing, “don’t you hate olives, Dad?”

“That…” Ben swallowed, setting the half eaten slice down at the corner of his closest kid’s—Lizzie’s—plate, “I do. Thanks for pointing that out.” He grabbed a wad of napkins, wiping his hands of any grease or crumbs. Running over and crumpling more than once to make sure he got everything. “I’m—I’m going to go on a walk—”

“Okay, Love,” Rey called out, a cringe forming on her face, “do whatever you need to do. Just don’t be out long—”

“Got it, got it,” he waved her off. “I’ll only be gone a half hour, longest.” Ben called out for Kylo, the oldest and biggest dog in the house. His old chocolate lab mix came to his side, nudging his nose against Ben’s knee. “I’ll have, Kylo. I’ll be fine.”

Picking up Kylo’s leash, Ben latched the hook on his dog and led him out of the house, calling out a quick goodbye.

Once the cooling night air hit him, he exhaled and shut the door behind him.

His eyes darted to the left.

The neighboring house sat unthreatening. One light on in the living room, Ben knowing the layout well enough when he had been debating on the bid.

The sun was still out, but beginning to set for the day. He had a good thirty minutes to go around the block, clear his thoughts, pick up the mail.

Maybe round back around and see if he can see them through the window…

Ben shook his head. It could all be a coincidence. His mother had relatives with the name ‘Organa.’ Not biological relatives, but distant relatives. Ones who, last time he checked, lived in France. So not unlikely they’d move into his neighborhood, but possibly relatives of relatives. Those existed.

The likelihood of his mother and father moving to Northern California was slim to none. Her career was in L.A., his dad’s automotive repair and showcases were in L.A.; their lives were, point blank, in Los Angeles. There would be no reason for them to uproot themselves unless something detrimental occurred. Even then…they’d be hesitant to leave.

He glanced back at the neighboring house.

The living room light was off.

Exhaling, Ben went down the front steps, being careful to not skip a step as Kylo kept pace with him. Upon reaching the front gate, he heard a door open—

Lizzie popped her head out, frowning at him.

“What’s up kiddo?” He asked, sole focus on her. “Need something?”

“Mom wanted me check in on you,” she stepped out of the doorway, shutting the front door behind her. “We could see you just standing here from the window,” she admitted, blunt. Apparently his and Rey’s lack of filter rubbed off on her in both the best and worst ways. But what was to be expected with their first kid? Lizzie was eight when she first moved in with them and had an impressive ear, absorbing their words and actions like a sponge. “She wanted me to see if you were okay.”

“I’m…” Looking up at her concerned, big brown eyes, Ben found he couldn’t lie to his daughter. “I’m not the best right now, but I’ll get better.”

If her stern frown were anything to go by, Lizzie didn’t believe him.

“Why don’t you come walk with me?” He nodded to the sidewalk. “Just let Mom know.”

Without further prompting, she came ambling down the steps and sent a quick text to Rey to let her know where’d she’d be. The father and daughter soon took off, walking in companionable silence, Kylo inbetween.

No one else was walking around the neighborhood, just them.

But Ben could not help but look back every few moments.

Looking back as though someone was watching, waiting for them to stop; or perhaps wanting to catch up.

* * *

Peeking through the living room window, Leia watched as her son walked with his daughter and dog around the neighborhood. Just up and down the street, no real rush to their steps or an urgency to go anywhere.

As far she could tell, neither were speaking, happy to walk in silence.

She couldn’t remember in engaging in such activity with Ben when he was in his adolescence. If she recalled correctly, he wanted nothing to do with her. He had a habit of making up excuses, clever excuses to get out of flat-out lying, but excuses. As a boy he was dragged to numerous events, near kicking and screaming on multiple occasions. And of course, Han would always see himself out; the lenient parent while Leia was the constant bad guy.

She hashed out the punishments.

She scolded their child.

She was the one who pushed for him to be better and got attitude in retaliation.

It was strange to see a teenager actively seeking out and enjoying quality time with their parent. Ben being said parent just made the entire scenario incomprehensible.

But the scenario was not a scenario at all, it was the truth and it was right in front of her.

Ben and his daughter round their way back to their house. Her son, however, stopped by the gate, handing off the leash to his daughter. The teenager nodded and led the large dog into the house, she shutting the door with a slam.

Ben winced.

Muffled voices were heard next door, along the lines of— “ _Be_ _careful. You slammed the door_.”

Her son stepped away from the gate and walked back on to the sidewalk, only to make a sharp turn to left, on to her pathway.

Leia backed away from the window, air caught in her throat.

Han had already turned in for bed, he more of an early riser. She was awake, alone, and…

A knock rapped on her front door. Sure, thrice, and right above her height.

…and her son, who’d she had not seen in over twenty years, was right outside her door.

Standing up straight with her shoulders back, Leia opened her front door.

Under the porch light stood her son, forty-three years old and taller.

That was all she could surmise—taller and speckled with grey. His dark locks were longer, just past his chin; he did always beg her to let him grow it out. She had an inkling it was due to his ears—he’d try to cover them in the most absurd ways. Hats, beanies, towels, paper plates, paper bags…the list went on.

Each and every time she refused because as much as he was embarrassed by his ears, she adored them on her little boy.

He looked younger than his age, no surprise considering she believed he’d be a late bloomer. Ben still looked fifteen when he was twenty, a constant point of personal ridicule for him.

But his eyes…his eyes _aged_. Aged beyond his years. The soft teddy bear brown of his gaze was darker. Hardened through life. As a teen, he had a chip on his shoulder, ready to snap and break at any moment. His peers and teachers walked on eggshells around him, nervous at what the seemingly once mild boy could do. The fragile edge he possessed in his youth was sharper, stronger, and not easily fooled. He’d been scorned one too many times. He’d been tried and tested. He’d been hurt.

His eyes spoke of it all.

Her little boy was man she did not know; a frightening reality.

“So it’s true.” He swallowed, hands fisted at his sides. Eyes locked on her, but not searching for home or relief. Just staring straight through and ahead, as though she were a ghost. “You are here. Next door.”

Leia’s hands clutched close to her heart, stunned he said anything at all. “Ben—”

“Don’t,” he ordered, his words above a mutter. “Don’t,” he repeated, tension building around his shoulders with each breath. “I don’t know how you found me—”

“We weren’t trying to,” he flinched at the words, yet kept his focus straight ahead, “your father and I just moved here. He—he has some health issues right now and this was a coincidence Ben—”

“I don’t care,” he pushed out, teeth clenched, “just don’t—don’t come near my family. My kids. My wife. Just don’t interacted. I worked hard these last twenty-four years to get where I am and I am not going to let you ruin this for me.”

“Ben,” she tried, “son—”

“I’m not your son,” he told her, conviction radiating through him. “I have not been your son for years. Don’t start acting like I am now just because we share a fucking fence.”

She snapped her mouth shut, any pleading or excuses falling short. No apologies would be enough for him.

He stepped back, first hands straining under his own pressure. “All I am asking is you don’t interfere with my life. I’m just a neighbor.”

Leia nodded once, one hand holding the door, the other hand remaining clasped at her chest. “Alright.”

Satisfied, Ben left. Hunched shoulders and bowed gate hurried down her porch steps and down the path, all the way back to his house.

And she watched her only child go, heart heavy and at a loss.

* * *

Ben scrubbed the dishes.

Hard.

Rey feared he’d snap the porcelain in half if he didn’t ease off. Yet she knew he needed this—something to occupy him. That’s why she left the dishes in the sink instead of loading the dishwasher and waited for her husband to finish scrubbing his frustrations out so they could go to bed together.

The kids had been ushered off to their own rooms. The little ones were already washed and tucked in, Avery falling asleep the moment her head hit the pillow and Carter not far behind. Josie was a bit more stubborn, insisting on Daddy tucking her in, but relented when her eyes started to close from exhaustion. Max was still grumpy from his little accident, he dozing off to an old Disney movie in the living room. Diego and Lizzie were still awake, Rey able to hear music coming from Diego’s room down the hall and movement upstairs from Lizzie’s room.

She didn’t expect either to go to bed until closer to midnight, soaking up their bedtime-less summer while they still could.

Rey, on the other hand, could see herself dozing off anywhere between then and midnight. The three hour drive from the cabin was exhausting, especially with Avery and Lizzie bickering the entire time. One would not believe their age difference by the way they acted around each other.

“I talked to her.”

Her head popped up at the sound of Ben’s voice. “Hm- _wah_?” Rubbing her eyes, she blinked blearily at Ben. “Did—did you just say you talked to her? Her as in—”

“Yes,” Ben looked up from his scrubbing. His warm and troubled eyes told her all she needed to know. Hopping off the bar stool, she shuffled over to him, wrapping her arms around him from behind. Rey smothered her face into his back, inhaling all that was Ben.

Mostly forest, sweat, and nutmeg.

Always nutmeg. After thirteen years together, she still hadn’t figured out if it was his shampoo, bodywash, deodorant, or cologne that caused the warm, earthy smell.

Part of her never wanted to know—kept a bit a mystery. After all, Ben was an open, page bleeding book to her. There was nothing to hide, so little mysteries were welcomed.

“What did you say?” she mumbled into his back. His hands threaded through hers, his mindless task forgotten in the meantime. “What did _she_ say?”

“I…” His deep breath echoed in her ear, she holding him tighter; as tight as possible without breaking a rib. “I told her to leave us alone. To not interacted.”

Rey blinked.

She was not sure what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that.

“You told her to not interact with us?” Rey asked, pulling away ever so slightly. “As in, you want us to live next to each other and act like it is nothing.”

“…yes.” His grip on her hands loosened, letting go altogether within seconds. In her arms, Ben turned to face her, a small crease between his eyebrows. “What’s wrong with that? It’s what I want.”

“Yes—yes, I understand that is what you want and you should have what you want but—” Her mouth opened and closed, trying to find the right way to speak without hurting Ben’s feelings—this was uncharted territory. Never in a million years did she think she’d meet his parents, let alone live less than thirty feet away from them and sharing a fence. She just assumed they’d be a footnote in their life; the parents of Ben, the people who conceived him, raised him, and that was it. Nothing more, nothing less.

But now…

“ _Mommy_ ,” Max rounded the corner into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. Her little man grunted, mumbling gibberish neither Rey or Ben understood. Shuffling closer, he plopped down on his bum and leaned his head against Rey’s shin.

But now they had their kids to think about.

Reaching down, Rey picked up Max. Her boy curled into her arms, his little thumb latching between his lips.

Ben tugged the digit out of the toddler’s mouth; they’d been trying to break him out of his thumb-sucking with no avail. Max’s nose scrunched, the parents holding their breath for an impending outcry.

Only for his face to smooth out, the boy falling to sleep with ease.

“Are we _really_ going to let our kids live next to their grandparents and not have them know?” Rey finally blurted out, rocking side to side on the balls of her feet. “Because…because I get it, Ben. I wouldn’t want my drunkard parents living next door—”

“Of course not—”

“But at the same time, it’s not like your parents were like mine—”

“Are we really going to compare battle scars right now?” Ben peered down at her, chewing hard on the side of his cheek, massive arms crossed over his chest. “Because I’m pretty sure you are the person who told me we cannot measure trauma—”

“Stop being a smartass for two seconds and just listen,” she hissed. Max shifted in her arms, relaxing back into her as she kept up her bouncing. “I’m not saying you forgive them,” Rey began, but Ben’s eyes were already blown wide, no doubt formulating an argument to tell her why she was wrong in every possible way, “because I hate what they have done to you too. They neglected you—I get that. I’m on your side—I’m always on your side, you know that.” Max squirmed in her arms, shifting his head to her other shoulder. Rey huffed, arms growing tired. “But at the same time, you did make a shitty decision to take that internship—"

“That was almost twenty-five years ago,” he insisted. “I thought I was making the perfect career move—”

“We are not talking about your shitty past decisions, Ben,” Rey reminded him, staring up at the ceiling for dear help. Lord knows how many times they hit that old pinata of a past demon. “We are talking about how you are a different person now.”

“I’m a _great_ person now—”

Rey snorted, waving a hand for him to stop. “Lets not get ahead of ourselves, Love. You’re still _you_ ,” she teased. Ben eased back against the counter, swaying in time with her bouncing. “What I’m trying to say is, you are better than making demands or being a petulant asshole.”

Her husband sighed, though did not argue.

She took his lack of response as a sign to continue. “Don’t you want to prove you are a better man? Show how you are a wonderful and empathetic father despite it all? Show them how you are the most considerate, loving husband to your bratty, mouthy wife?”

“Who says you’re bratty and mouthy?” His mirth brought a relieved grin.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Rey rolled her eyes, coy “just some _guy_. He’s bit of a moron, but sweet in his own way.”

A faint blush smattered his cheeks, Ben ducking his head down, for once bashful.

He wasn’t the kindest to her at their first meeting all those years ago, calling her such names, but with time the memory warmed her with delight and embarrassed him without fail.

“I want to do that,” Ben confessed, “prove I am better. That I’m not that boy they knew, because I’m not.”

“I know that.”

“But,” he ran a hand through his hair, gray streams peeking through his dark locks at the movement, “but I don’t know if I can.

“I think you can,” she stepped forward, nudged her foot against his shin, “I think you can makes things better with your parents.”

He shook his head. “It won’t be the same—”

“But we don’t want it to be the same,” Rey shifted Max in her arms, the boy becoming a dead weight in his sleep. Catching her struggle, Ben relieved her of the toddler’s hold. “We want it to be different. Better than before and you are in control of that. You lay down the ground rules, you lay out the boundaries. They don’t.”

Combing through Max’s light brown tangles, Ben hummed. “You might be right.”

“Of course I am.” Rey reached up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m not saying you take back what you said to her, just maybe take some baby steps.”

“Yeah, baby steps,” he muttered, less than enthused.

“Alright then.” Squeezing his arm, Rey began to make her way to the living room, grabbing the television remote off the kitchen counter. “Can you please put Max down for bed? I’ll shut off everything down here.”

Ben nodded without a word, making his way to the stairs.

Making her way around the first floor, Rey shut the television and most of the lights, except the one over the kitchen sink, knowing at least one kid will make their way downstairs for something to drink or waking up before their alarm. Pausing at the staircase, she changed her course, walking past the stairs and down the hall to the right. She stopped outside the cracked door, knocking lightly.

“Come in,” came her eldest son’s voice.

Rey popped her head in, finding Diego at his desk, a music editor app open on his desktop computer. “Just wanted to check in on you. See if you are okay…?”

“I’m fine,” he shrugged, the headphones down on his neck bouncing up at the motion.

She winced at the familiar phrase.

“I know you really wanted to go,” Rey edged her way into the room, leaning against the wall closest to the door, “and I believe you are good enough to get into next year’s summer music program. We just don’t think it is the right time. We are still waiting on word about the adoption hearing.”

“I know,” Diego sighed, fiddling with a stray cord on his desk. “I just wish it can already happen, ya know?”

Rey’s chest tightened, her poor boy hurting just as bad as her and Ben.

“We do too,” she crossed over to him, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. It’d been a four year long up hill battle for Diego’s adoption. His birth mother had a habit of filtering in and out of his life, making promises she couldn’t keep. More than once had the adoption process been stopped because Diego’s birth mother claimed she was ready to take him back, only for the pattern to continue its course.

It only took one broken promise for Diego to not get his hopes up again.

What made matters difficult was how the rescheduling of hearings, the inevitable stops and the go’s, put certain parts of their life on hold, such as Diego being able to participate in activities beyond their family functions and community.

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner,” Rey keeping to herself, giving Diego his space, “but your father and I didn’t know how to bring up the music program, and we never had a moment alone with you over the vacation. Telling you this morning just seemed like our best option.” She shook her head, finding there was no real excuse. “The plan is to get this sorted out as soon as possible. Your social worker should be getting back to us any day now.”

Diego nodded, the teenager understanding even when it was undeserved. “It’s okay, Mom. I get it; best to keep me around when this is still up in the air then send me off to a summer music camp.”

His disappointment was poorly concealed, Rey unable to help the urge but to fix the situation; make her son feel better about the unfortunate turn of events.

“It won’t always be like this,” Rey patted his knee lightly, “I promise it won’t. Take it from one former foster kid to another—it’ll work out.”

His lips twitched at the remark, but no smile came to fruition. Spinning away, he tugged his headphones back on. “I need to finish this mix before I go to bed. But—uh, thanks Mom.”

“Of course,” she stood up, dusting off her clothes out of habit, “don’t stay up too late.”

Her son nodded, half paying attention as she left.

Closing the door behind her, Rey could not help but feel their family was on the cusp of change. She just could not decided if it’d be for the better or for the worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be three POVs in this fic--Leia, Ben, and Rey's. All of which are important and will help piece this family together :)
> 
> Also, could anyone pinpoint a future potential conflict??? A couple of seeds were planted in this chapter ;)


	3. Googled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to everyone commenting and reading! It means a lot :D
> 
> This chapter was going to be longer but I decided to break it up. You'll thank me later.
> 
> Typos will be fixed later!
> 
> Enjoy

* * *

Half past five in the morning, Leia went out on her morning walk with Han.

And she unloaded.

“He told me to keep away!” She hissed as they rounded the corner. Over the horizon the sun rose in greeting, lighting the way as the street lamps faded off with the change of day. “Like I was some monster trying to hurt his family!”

Han shrugged, arms tucked into his zip-up sweater. “Maybe in his eyes we are.”

Her feet stopped, she staring up at him aghast. “We are his parents. Not monsters. We tried out best, we had a disagreement—”

“And he ignored us for twenty fucking years, Sweetheart.” Han moved ahead of her, Leia catching up without prompting. Keeping up with Han was never a problem, but listening to his reasoning while keeping up with him? That was the Lord testing her. “It never crossed your mind that maybe we are the villains of his story?”

Leia scoffed. “I know we are not perfect, but we are not villains. Especially to him. I want what’s best for him. Always have.”

“Well, he clearly figured out what is best for him if the wife and house full of kids are anything to go by.”

They paused at the corner of their street, taking a breath. “Do you not get it, Han? He got married without us there. He had his first kid without us there. He became this _other_ person while we weren’t watching!”

“I would hope so, twenty years is a long time,” he drawled out with a chuckle. When he saw Leia’s deepening frown, he sobered up. “I don’t know, I think we should be happy for him. Looks like he figured shit out.”

“I am happy for him,” Leia argued, a truth difficult to admit. “How can I not be happy for my only son? But…” She squinted towards Ben’s house, lips pursed. “But I’m upset. We missed out on so much and he doesn’t even want us there for what we can be there for. He doesn’t want us part of his life.”

“Then we listen,” Han grunted, already tired of the conversation. “We don’t interfere unless they talk to us. Shit, Leia,” he husband became serious for once, “I want to know my grandkids as much as you, but I’m not gonna fucking stick my nose where it’s not wanted.”

She sighed; she couldn’t argue with that accurate assessment.

“Fine,” she exhaled, running her hands up and down her arms, “we don’t do anything. Just what I love doing.”

Without waiting up for him, Leia walked ahead. Han would take his time; he liked to stop, wait with the sun, take in the scenery.

Leia, on the other hand, just couldn’t let time pass her by.

* * *

Mornings were the only time Rey got alone.

With six kids, four dogs, one cat, and a husband in need of a constant ear to listen, mornings were sacred and personal.

She’d make coffee in the morning, make sure the dogs had used the restroom, and then head off outside for her morning jog. Running had been an exercise and escape for her in her youth, the habit sticking with her throughout adulthood. No matter where she moved, the circumstances of her life, or how she felt, Rey made sure to get outside and go around the block a few times.

Early in their relationship, Ben would join her. They’d race, a healthy dose of competition in their lives. He’d never been much of a runner himself, more into well-constructed workouts and weight training, but he’d do it just to spend time with her. But once the kids came into the picture, their schedules gradually shifted and the morning jog became Rey’s alone.

Just her and the sidewalk, most of the neighborhood still asleep.

At least that had been the case in the past.

Rounding the street corner, she’d been surprised to see an older man walking ahead of her, out on a morning stroll.

Rey eased into a brisk walk as she came closer, her stomach clenching once she realized who was ahead of her.

_Ben’s dad_.

For a brief moment she debated on running back the way she came. Take the long way back to the house, act as though that was her complete intention and not that she was avoiding her _father-in-law_.

Still weird to think she had a ‘father-in-law’ in general.

But Rey did not consider herself a coward, nor was she one to run at the first sign of trouble. She continued on her path, allowing her stomach to clench and tense however it deemed because she needed to do this. She needed to be strong and prove she could be civil.

She caught up with the man, he sparing a glance before looking forward once more.

“Hi,” he grunted.

“Hi.” Rey nodded.

They walked in time; the silence stretched.

“You know who I am, don’t you?” he asked, an air of defeat and humor to him. She chewed hard on the inside of her cheek, his tone reminding her of Ben. She could see the similarities between the estranged father and son—the perpetual frown, the height, the stubborn gate. One would think he was upset and prepared to yell at someone at any given moment, but Rey knew by instinct that was not the case. He just had a grumpy face.

“Yeah—yeah I do,” she confessed.

Apparently Ben’s dad wasn’t one to beat around the bush, getting straight to the point. “We aren’t going to be bothering you or Ben or your kids,” he told her, plain and simple. “but you seem like you are a smart and honest kid and I like to think I am decent judge of character.” He finally looked down at her, making direct and firm eye contact. “Is he happy?”

Rey’s blinked at the question.

She hadn’t been expecting that.

“Yes,” she answered, once she found her voice, “I like to believe he is.”

Ben’s dad nodded. “And he’s a good father?”

“The best.”

“I figured he’d be,” he confessed, hands burrowed into his jacket pockets, “Ben was sensitive as a kid. Cared a lot. Maybe too much. That’s the Solo in him.” He chuckled, raising a hand to rub at his jaw. “And he’s a good husband?”

“I cannot imagine my life with anyone else.” She peered up at him, giving into a light tease. “Was that the right answer?”

“It was the perfect answer; means you’ll stick by him through the thick of it. Rather my son have a partner who’d stick with him when things get tough and fight with him, than someone who’d runaway at the first sign of trouble.”

Rey knew Ben was closer to his father in his childhood. She could see why—Mr. Solo was easy to talk to. He could walk and chat; have a serious conversation yet act like it was a simple moment. He chuckled at poor jokes, kept the atmosphere light. There was a relaxed, wise quality about him, one that had seen plenty of life and knew what was important. The paradox of seemingly not caring, and caring a whole hell lot.

He wasn’t a taut rubber band waiting to be unleashed. Not like Ben could be.

She was quick to surmise the little buzzing quality was from Skywalker side rather than the Solos. Just knowing their family history proved enough evidence for the theory, but speaking with Ben’s father put the nail in the coffin.

“You two are doing well?” Mr. Solo asked as they came to the end of the block, the mailboxes just a few feet away. “Leia heard you two have a business. Flipping houses or some shit?”

Rey huffed a laugh at the comment. “Ben and I are flippers, but we also renovate. Small business; a few friends help us run it. Ben handles the architecture. I do the landscaping. We both do the construction.”

“Ah,” Mr. Solo hummed, intrigued, “you’re a landscaper. Met Ben in school then?”

“No,” Rey shook her head, hoping to not laugh at the suggestion. “That would be impossible. We met through work and mutual friends.”

At his scrunched eyebrows, Rey realized she needed to elaborate on her ‘no.’

“Ben and I have a ten year age gap. I’m thirty-three. Actually just turned thirty-three last month,” she clarified, yet her mouth kept running. “Most found it odd when I was younger because I was a twenty year old dating a thirty year old man and we got serious so fast, but for some reason the moment I turned thirty no one batted an eye at the information. But I can understand if it is a surprise or anything to you—I mean you are his father—”

Mr. Solo waved her off. “You don’t have to explain age differences to me. Leia and I have the same age gap. I get it. I think it runs with the Skywalkers—marrying someone with a decent age difference. We use to joke Ben would either marry someone ten years younger or ten years older,” he heaved into laughter, “no in-between. It would be a coin toss!”

Rey faltered. “I…didn’t know you and your wife had the same age difference as Ben and I.”

She didn’t know what to do with that information.

“Yeah. The age thing fades once you hit your thirties, like you said. People get their heads out of their asses. But business is good, yeah?” Mr. Solo asked, changing the subject back to the original topic.

Rey nodded. “It’s great.”

“Good, good.” He sighed, eyes back on the horizon line. “That’s all good to hear.”

They turned back on to their street, a few houses away from their stops.

One question sat in the back of her mind since she reached him, and if there were any opportunity to ask, it would be right there and then.

“If…if I may ask,” Rey began, “what cause your move? Ben mentioned you two were down in Los Angeles. Your lives were there.”

A gradual, deep frown marred his face.

Maybe that wasn’t the right question to ask.

“Health reasons,” Mr. Solo settled on. “Nothing to get worried about or to tell Ben. Just some health things. Doc suggested moving to a slower area, less pollution. Closer to some better hospitals and whatnot.”

Alarms went off in Rey’s mind—‘ _better hospitals?’_

“Are you sure everything is alright?”

“Positive,” Mr. Solo said without an ounce of hesitance. “Like I said, nothing to get worried about.”

“Alright.” Rey let the matter go, however more so putting a pin in it. She had every intention to return to the conversation. She knew better than to push when someone was closing up; didn’t mean she had a track record of following such sentiments, her husband and children would argue otherwise, but she tried. “If you say so.”

They soon came up to Mr. Solo’s house. He gave her a nod and pat on the shoulder. “Well, it was nice talking to you kid. Might have to do this again some time.”

“Have a good day, Mr. Solo.”

He cringed at the name. “Please, call me ‘Han’.” Vague disgruntledness consumed him. “No one calls me Mr. Solo.” Nodding once more, he went up the path to his house.

Rey waited until he was inside before entering the gate to her house.

A genuine concern for the man resided in her, she unable to feel there was more bottled up in the man than he let on.

“Mommy!” Josie dashed out the door, bare feet slapping against the cement and on the wet grass up to Rey. Her little arms wrapped around her legs, the girl’s head resting against her thigh. Rey patted down the dark locks, making a mental note to give her a haircut at some point that week. Any longer, they’d be battling tangles. “I missed you.” The five year old was their early bird. If the sun was up, she was up. It was no surprise to see her running around the house and yard before seven in the morning. Better to have her run around the yard and downstairs than attempting to wake up her siblings.

Though that did not mean she didn’t wake her favorite person in the world. He wasn’t off limits to Josie’s clutches.

“Josie!” Ben called out. “Don’t run out the door like that.” He stood by the front door, still dressed in pajama pants and a t-shirt. His bedhead was visible and glasses were perched on his nose, Ben less than thrilled to be awake. His coffee was in his hands, luckily not filled to the brim. More than once had he ran after Josie, only to spill coffee down the entire entryway.

Rey picked Josie up, carrying the girl on her hip as she came up the stairs. She planted a quick kiss on Ben’s cheek. “Hello, Love.”

“Hey,” he grunted, shutting the door after her. “Nice run?” he asked, mid-yawn.

“Uh, yeah,” Rey sat Josie down on a barstool by the kitchen counter, “yeah it was nice. Did some…thinking.” She moved over to the bread box, pulling out some wheat slices and placing them in the toaster.

Ben leaned against the counter, humming as he sipped his coffee. “Ah, thinking? What kind of thinking?”

“Just thinking,” she shrugged.

She grabbed a plate from the cabinet and brought the butter over to her as she waited to butter the toast.. Her eyes darted to Josie, who was far too consumed with singing her own little song to herself as she waited for her morning toast. A little diddy along the lines of _–‘Toasty, toasty, toast. Oh I love you the most.’_

“Hey, um,” she thrummed her fingers against the counter, “your dad is older than your mom, yeah?”

Ben’s eyes focused for once that morning, a tad larger behind his glasses. “Yes…about ten years?” he squinted, as though doing the math in his head. “Why?”

“Nothing, nothing,” she assured him, searching for a butter knife. “I was just wondering because—well, just because. When I saw them he just looked older and I was curious.”

Ben frowned, but didn’t press the matter. Instead he served himself more coffee.

The toast popped up.

“Toasty!” Josie cried out in delight.

Being careful to not burn herself, Rey removed the toast and began to slather butter. “I just think it’s sort of funny because we have the same age difference.”

Her husband paused, chocolate and caramel creamer mid-pour. “I never noticed that.” He stopped pouring his creamer. “You want some coffee? I’ll make you some coffee.”

He moved about the kitchen with a new sense of urgency, going about making her a cup of coffee she didn’t ask for.

Rey sighed and placed the toast in front of Josie. She tweaked her nose, a giggle erupting from the girl.

“Honestly Ben I think it is funny—”

“It’s not funny.”

“Yes, it is.” Just as she was about to argue more on the issue, Lizzie came into the kitchen, Diego not far behind.

“Great, you two are up” Ben turned to the two sleepy teens with a grin, “you two are working today—”

A chorus of groans sounded in the kitchen, the kids grabbing their own forms of breakfast—cereal and more toast.

“—I need help painting and putting up some baseboards,” Ben continued, handing Rey her coffee. He ruffled Lizzie’s hair, she swatting him away. “And if we want to stay on track, I need all hands on deck. Might even have to drag Carter and Avery—”

“No!” Lizzie cried out. “They’ll make a mess—”

“Then don’t complain,” Ben shot back. “I am giving you something that cannot be bought. Life experience, Lizzie. Life experience and something decent to write on your resume, ‘Assistant to the CEO’. Not many fifteen year olds can say that.”

Lizzie did not find the joke amusing in the slightest.

And just like that, Ben shelved the conversation with ease and flew right into talking shop. Rey shouldn’t have expected anything less; he’d always been great at pushing away his past.

* * *

“We are not going to be listening to your pop trash the entire time.” Diego stomped over to the radio, yanking out the AUX cord from Lizzie's cell phone.

“Halsey is not pop trash! If you did your research, she’s alternative—”

“Is she though?” Diego proceeded to plug in his phone before Lizzie could answer.

“Yes, she is, Diego!”

“If anything she is pop-alternative—”

“I don’t need you to be a music snob right now—”

“One of you just pick a playlist, or we are listening to my music,” Ben called out from the other side of the bare living room. The two teenagers huffed but listened, deciding on a 80’s playlist as their neutral territory and went back taping out the walls.

Crouched in front of the paint cans, Ben shook his head. He couldn’t have every imagined having a sibling. He’d probably argue until his face turned blue, much worse than either Diego or Lizzie.

But then again, they weren’t always like that. They used to get along, happy to work on homework together and hang out in the same circle of friends. High school changed that, the two drifting apart into their own little corners. Diego with his music and jazz band rehearsals, and Lizzie with her athletics. In their eyes, they probably felt worlds apart. Ultimately, Ben chalked it up to teenage stubbornness and their inherent independent streaks.

“Hey, Dad,” Lizzie came over to him as he poured beige base paint into the painters tray, “I didn’t ask last night, but why did you stop by the neighbor’s?”

Ben looked up at her, attempting to act casual despite his inherent instinct to be defensive. Lizzie was like Rey—neither had a filter. Blunt, to the point, lacking manners on the entire respecting people’s privacy part of communication.

And while he believed it was a nice quality, especially since it came with a bullshit detector, Ben did not like it when it was directed at him.

“Uh,” he set down the paint can, dusting off his hands on his paint stained jeans, “because I, uh, thought I should introduce myself.”

Lizzie raised an eyebrow.

Ben tensed, but then remembered _he_ was adult. Not Lizzie and her all too knowing eyes. “Your mom already introduced herself earlier in the day. Thought I should be nice and do the same.”

“Oh,” she faltered, biting her lips together. “Then why were you there for so long?”

“Because…” he shrugged, handing her the paint roller beside him, “…because sometimes small talk is a bitch and you get roped into it even when you don’t want to.”

She grasped the roller, her eyes still holding a question. “ _Okay_ …” Ben didn’t like the sound of that ‘okay’ nor the way she was watching him. However she kept her comments to herself. Silence prompting her, Lizzie went back to work and attached an extender to the roller handle.

“Are you talking about the neighbors?” Diego asked, picking up the dropped topic. He picked up his own roller handle and grabbed a sponge roller from the nearby bucket. “I googled them.”

The second paint can slipped in Ben’s hands. “Fuck.”

A small splatter of beige hit the plastic covered floor, but he moved quick and caught the can before anymore could spill out.

“You did _what_?”

“I googled them?” Diego drawled out, not seeing the problem. “I heard Mom mention their name was ‘Organa’ or something?” He finished placing the sponge on the roller and dipped it into the tray, unaware of the horror pumping through his father’s veins. “Apparently the woman is some famous interior designer and is like the only heir to this multi-million dollar hotel chain and the birth daughter to some diplomats.” A large grin consumed Diego as he continued talking. “Which then led me down the rabbit hole about the Skywalkers and Dad, that is some Kennedy level shit. I am surprised there isn’t some conspiracy Youtube channel digging into all of it.”

Ben’s lungs cried for air, he unable to think or breathe as the Diego continued to explain his research.

Beside him, Lizzie gapped, eyes wide in fascination. “No way. We live next to an heiress.”

Diego rolled his eyes. “She’s not an heiress. She was adopted.”

“Same difference.”

“Anyways, I guess she retired early. That’s all her Wikipedia and website said.”

“Did, uh,” Ben forced the words out, “did you see anything on her husband? Or kids?”

His son’s face scrunched, trying to recall anything. “Her husband owns a really popular auto shop? They had one kid—I think.” He then snapped his fingers, getting excited once more. “Oh yeah, I actually read something really cool. I guess he was an orphan and adopted the last name ‘Solo.’”

Ben was positive his heart stopped then and there. Because this was when his life went to shit. He had to confront the truth—tell his kids the truth—and he wasn’t mentally prepared for that. Sure, he told Rey. Told her the intensity and absurdity that surrounded the Organa and Skywalkers, the pressure that consumed him as a child. She knew of the neglect, pain, and loneliness. She knew everything.

However, to bare the truth to his kids? Ben never wanted to do such a thing.

He awaited the impending questions—the inevitable accusations he was sure Lizzie and Diego would shoot his way.

But his kids…his kids remained unaffected by the news.

And that confused him.

So he said—“ _Solo_ —like us? Cool.” Ben was pretty sure he wheezed out each word like he had just ran a marathon.

“That is kind of cool he has the same last name as us,” Lizzie remarked, “bummer he isn’t related to Dad though. He adopted the name. Dad is a natural born ‘Solo’.”

“I know,” Diego groaned, “that would have been insane if they were.”

Just like that, Lizzie and Diego were chatting as though they hadn’t been fighting over the AUX cord less than twenty minutes ago. They got paint on their rolls and got to work, paying no mind to their father as Diego began to retell the crazy theories he read about the Skywalker family.

And Ben…

Well, Ben wanted the ground to swallow him into the depths of the Earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not going to act like the internet and googling isn't a thing in this fic, lol. Because it is and we cannot underestimate the youth! Also we learned a little bit more about the Organa-Solo-Skywalkers! Little pieces of information will slowly wiggle their way in....
> 
> REY MET HAN. And maybe he isn't as bad as Ben painted him??? Uh oh.


	4. The Potluck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you so much for reading and loving this fic! I am amazed by the response and the love it has received in just a week. I am slowly responding to all the comments, so if I haven't replied yet, one will be on the way soon!
> 
> Typos will be fixed later. 
> 
> Enjoy :D

* * *

Leia wasn’t one to get involved in committees.

No, she was one to put them together and be president of said committees. Maybe it was a power complex, or perhaps the fact she was surrounded by imbeciles and if anyone was going to do it right the first time, it’d her.

So when Jyn dropped by and informed her the neighborhood would be getting together for their monthly potluck to go over ‘summer events,’ Leia was hesitant.

She’d only been living in the Takodana area for three weeks. One of which had been spent bottled up in house in fear she’d run into her son, her son’s wife, or one of the children they always had running around. She even cut out her early morning walk when she discovered her son’s wife ran in the mornings. Han thought she was being ridiculous, going out on his walks without her, but Leia wanted to keep true to her promise.

She didn’t want to accidentally run into Rey. She knew the young woman knew who she was. And just based on one interaction, Leia knew the woman would always take her husband’s side—Ben’s side.

A confrontation was not a necessity at the moment.

“It’ll be fun,” Jyn promised, “we have a hosting rotation. It’s my turn this month. Just bring a dish of any kind, make sure to mark if it has nuts or gluten. Usually it’s just a time for all of us to catch-up, chit-chat, all that neighborly stuff,” she added with an eyeroll.

“I don’t know…” Leia cringed into her tea.

“I was the same way,” her new friend insisted, “but it’s better than it sounds. And if we’re lucky, Ben might bring dessert.”

Leia’s eyebrows shot up. “Ben…as in…Ben-next-door?”

“Oh yeah,” Jyn nodded, excitement lighting up her blue-green eyes, “he makes some of the best Torta Della Nonna. I never thought I’d be one for Italian desserts, but he has a real knack for them.”

_“Ben we follow the recipe, word for word,” Leia insisted, nervous to be attempting the recipe herself. The battered, leather bound notebook had been sitting in her hutch for years, more decorative than anything at this point. But Ben wanted to know what was inside, and who was she to tell him ‘no.’ Her five year old was a bit too eager to get into the flour and sugars laid out before them, eyes glued to the ingredients. Wonder did not begin to describe his gaze, a twinge of something beyond childish glee and curiosity behind his toffee colored eyes. “This is your Grandma Padme’s family recipe_.”

_He already dipped his hands into the flour, giggling at the sight of his chubby, powdery hands._

“Ah,” Leia nodded, hoping she didn’t look as choked up as she felt, “I always tried to make a Torta Della Nonna, but I just could never get it right. Baking was never really my forte.”

But it apparently became her son’s.

“Maybe Ben can share his recipe with you,” Jyn offered, giving a half shrug. “Doesn’t hurt to ask.”

Leia tried a smile, the gesture not reaching her eyes. “Yeah, maybe.”

“So I can count you in for tomorrow night?”

“Sure,” Leia shrugged, knowing it wouldn’t be her death if she attended one neighborhood meeting, “it’d be nice to meet the other neighbors.”

* * *

From her desk in their home office, Rey grunted. Again.

Ben looked up from his drafting table, pushing up his dipping glasses. He was only going to stop by the current house to see the progress Jannah and Jessika made that day with the carpet and downstairs bathroom tile, contacts forgone. He preferred to wear his glasses while drafting, their next project laid out before him. The plan was to just work from home, get certain logistics set out for the next house as they entered the last few remaining stages for their current project. Usually, the two were able to get work done when off to their own corners of the room.

Except Rey was distracted.

He could tell by the sound of another grunt and the tapping of her pencil.

And the fact she had a bag of dark chocolate chips on her desk she’d been munching on all morning. Rey loved food, but she only ate chocolate when she was stressed or too consumed with her thoughts. Sweets weren’t her thing; never had been.

“Everything okay over there?” he ask, sparing his wife a small glance.

“Yeah…” she sighed out.

Another grunt.

He sat back on his stool, spinning on the seat to face her. “You sure?”

“Yup.” She popped the ‘p,’ and sunk lower in her chair.

“Oka—”

“We have the neighborhood potluck tomorrow,” she announced, cutting through the grunts and silence in the room. “Jyn sent me a reminder email.”

Ben didn’t see the problem. They went to the potluck every month. Made fake smiles and listened to various neighbors rant about their lives. Be civil as they were asked by some of the more affluent couples and elderly folks if they were ever planning on having kids of their own, or they’d continue their ‘charity case’—Rey would usually let Ben handle those questions, she once shoving a cut of lasagna into Enric Pryde’s face when he implied she must have had ‘bad eggs,’ unable to conceive children of her own.

Needless to say, they weren’t particular close to anyone except the Hux-Ticos and or course, Jyn and Cassian. He secretly hoped the couple would corner him with pictures of the latest rescues that came into Jyn’s animal clinic. Maybe he and Rey could get another dog. “Let her know I’ll bring dessert. I’ll make the cake tonight before I go to bed.”

Rey closed her laptop, resting her chin on her clasped hands. “You—you do realize everyone in the neighborhood is invited to these things right?” She shoved more chocolate chips into her mouth, chewing and talking at the same time. “Like our new neighbors.”

Hearing her valid concern, Ben realize the likelihood of his parents attending a neighborhood potluck was slim. Hell, they’d been living next door to each other for over a week and he hadn’t had a single run-in. There hadn’t been any interference on either side and the one minor slip up, courtesy of Diego’s research had been a non-existent blip. Neither one of his teens made the connection between himself and their new neighbors.

“My mother doesn’t like going to anything she is not conducting herself and my dad hates going to anything with more than ten people.”

“But maybe they’ll come to this?” She winced out. “You don’t like going to these things either, but you still show up every last Sunday of the month.”

“Because you are there,” Ben argued. Any event or trip became better the moment Rey was there. “I’d never go to one alone.”

“What if I was sick?” Rey countered. “You still wouldn’t go?”

“No,” he shook his head, “because the entire time I’d be asked ‘Where is Rey?’ and no one gives a shit about me at those things.”

“It’d be the same for me if I showed up without you.”

“Nice try, but we both know that is not true.” She opened her mouth to argue otherwise, but Ben beat her to the punch, swing the conversation back to the original topic. “I highly doubt they’ll go to the potluck. They have been keeping to their word about distance; they are actually listening to me for once in their goddamn lives.”

Rey’s worry softened, a gentle smile washing away her wince. “I’m glad this is not bothering you as much as it was in the beginning…”

“If it can be like this all the time, I’ll be fine. They don’t talk to us, we don’t talk to them. Our own bubbles of happiness.”

Exactly the way it was supposed to be.

Ben spun around to face his drafting table, twirling his pencil as he assessed his work.

“Um, Ben—there actually is something I need to talk to you about.” He heard Rey dig into her bag of chocolate chips once more. “I…I talked to your dad.”

His grip on his pencil tightened.

“On my morning run the other day,” she continued, “he walks in the mornings and we chatted when our courses line up. We didn’t talk about anything I particular—just small talk. But…but I think you should know because he said something that concerned me—”

“Like _what_?” Ben uttered out, his eyes locked down on his architect’s scale.

“Like the fact he moved out here because his doctor suggested it?” she said more like a question than a statement, as though she wasn’t too sure if she could believe it herself. “Because there are better doctors and specialists in the area. I think something happened to him, health wise.”

“My dad has always been healthy,” Ben argued towards the drafting table, a sudden swell of defense for his father’s health surging through him. His dad was fit and true outdoors man—hiking, marathons, camping, fishing. He ate anything and everything, didn’t matter if it was healthy and balance or greasy fast food. He drank a glass of whisky once in a blue moon and had a beer after dinner. Sure his dad was a shit father more often than not, but his dad was always _okay_ health wise.

It was weird to imagine him otherwise.

“Maybe he was when you were younger,” he heard her chair roll back, her sock clad feet padding against the hardwood floor, “but you haven’t seen him or talked to him in over twenty years. A lot can change in twenty years.” Rey stopped beside him, a warm arm resting against his shoulder as her hand combed through his hair, soothing him. “I don’t like you getting worried about something that could mean nothing, but I haven’t been able to sleep or work properly with this—this information sitting in my brain. Because I know you need to know.”

Ben chewed hard on the inside of his cheek, trying to process the information.

And failing.

“He was always overdramatic,” he stated. “And he could have said that for you to tell me and for me to get concerned because they don’t know how to leave well enough alone.”

“Ben—”

“And why would you even talk to him?” he asked, finally looking up at him.

She faltered at the hurt he directed to her, yet she remained beside him. Like always. Like he’d do for her.

“Because he’s your dad. I…I don’t know what I think of him. But he’s your dad and he’s the parent you always liked more—you said so yourself. And maybe I was curious,” she shrugged, “I never really knew my parents. I am just trying to understand this.”

“Understand?” he pressed, confused by the vague phrase. “Are you saying you don’t understand why I cut them out?”

“I understand that,” she amended, “but I don’t understand… _them_. They want to know you now when they didn’t before and it seems like your Dad cares but it just—it doesn’t _make sense_ to me because I cannot imagine being like that with my own children.”

He spun in his seat, meeting his wife face to face. “I know. I don’t understand it either.” Ben sniffed, feeling a prick of tears in his eyes. Lifting his glasses, he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. “And I don’t think I want to understand.”

She nodded, her hands once again combing through his hair. Brushing away errant hairs refusing to lay flat. “I’m not going to apologize for speaking with your father.”

He snorted, sardonic. “I don’t expect you to.”

“But I don’t plan on speaking with him again, unless absolutely necessary. I’m just trying to be the civil party here. Someone has to be.”

“You’re right.” He swallowed, throat tight and itchy. “Just a little surprising it’s you of all people trying to be civil.” A smirk pulled on his lips. “Last time you tried to be civil, you told a PTA mom to shove her ethnocentricity up her ass.”

“Oi!” She swatted his shoulder. Ben leaned out of her reach, chuckling when she missed. “I can be civil! It takes work, but I can do it!”

“ _Sure_ , Sunflower,” Ben mocked, making his face serious. “I’ll mark that down as a lie you tell yourself.”

Rey shoved him playfully again, he wrapping her up in his arms before she could attempt another try. “My god, Ben—”

A knock came from outside their office. Lizzie popping her head into the room a second later, hands over her eyes. “I hope I am not interrupting anything—”

“You’re fine, Lizzie,” Rey said, wiggling out of Ben’s arms. She sent him a warning glance. He held his hands up in defense, a teasing grin.

Lizzie dropped her hands. “Alright, I have a question—”

“No,” Ben announced, “whatever you want to do, no.”

“You didn’t even know what I was going to ask!”

“Then tell me,” Ben shot back, “but if it is about going out tonight when you know it is the last Sunday of the month—”

Lizzie groaned, marching back out of the room. “Fine!”

“Ben, _really_?” Rey huffed, sending him a light glare. “Lizzie, come back!”

The girl came back seconds later, leaning against the French doors of the office. “Yes?”

“Tell us what you were going to ask.” Rey prompted.

Lizzie glanced at the two, stubbornness set in, before she relented. “Will invited me to come over to watch movies tomorrow night and I thought it would be okay since it is the summer and not a school night.”

Rey and Ben shared a glance—they knew _all_ about Will Dameron. Somedays he was Lizzie’s best friend and other days he was the scum of the earth. Lived a couple of streets over, had been in a couple her classes the last year, but had always been around. He had nice parents, Poe and Amilyn, who also happened to be friends of Rey and Ben’s. They had never been judgmental in slightest of their family, welcomed Lizzie and Diego with open arms whenever the kids all hung out together. He was two years older, but never acted like he was superior to Lizzie.

They’d all joked one day Lizzie and Will would end up dating one day.

Honestly, a joke.

But somehow the joke wasn’t really a joke anymore when the possibility inched closer and closer to reality. When the group hangs started to included less and less people, and Diego wasn’t necessarily invited anymore. When it started to just become Will and Lizzie hanging out. Alone.

“Are Amilyn and Poe going to be there?” Ben asked, needing to know for sure there would be some adult supervision. Plus, he wouldn’t put it past Amilyn to find an excuse to get out of the potluck, the woman having her own tiffs with a few of the locals. Her son having a friend over would be the perfect for her to hang behind while Poe did what he did best; charm and schmooze.

“Yes, they are,” Lizzie informed them, still bracing herself for a rejection. “I don’t see the big deal. I hang out with him all the time.”

“You’re right,” Rey was quick to chime in, “it isn’t a big deal. Your father just wants to make sure that you’ll be okay since we’ll be out,” she said, if not a bit terse towards Ben. “Of course you can hang out with Will. Just makes sure you are back by ten. Have him drop you off or call and one of us will pick you up.”

“Great! Thanks!” Their daughter hurried out of the room, leaving her parents watching after her.

Ben stood up, facing Rey aghast. “Are we really going to let her hang out with a guy—”

“It is Will, Ben,” Rey reminded him, heading back to her desk. “The boy practically pisses himself when he has to make small talk with you. I think we will be okay.” She then shrugged, opening her laptop. “Plus Lizzie and I have already had the talk. We are _fine_ —trust me.”

Disgust twisted inside him at the thought of ‘the talk’ with his daughter. “She is still a little girl who wants me to serve her an extra slice of cake at dinner. She is not doing any of … _that_.”

Rey rolled her eyes. “Like I said—it’s Will, we are fine. I highly doubt anything will happen.”

A thump was heard upstairs, followed by a cry.

_“AVERY PUSHED ME!”_ came Josie’s whine.

_“NO I DIDN’T.”_

More arguing commenced, Lizzie’s voice lost in the mix as the three girls fought.

Ben closed the French doors as the sound of feet went running up the stairs. “We are technically still working.”

Rey grinned, sinking lower in her desk chair. “You are absolutely right, Love.”

“Nothing Diego or Lizzie cannot handle.” For good measure, Ben locked the door.

The two resumed their work, the voices and shouts fading in and out as the younger kids argued and played.

Only four weeks into summer and they wanted the break to be over. Now.

* * *

“Hiding by the drinks is not going to save you from their clutches,” Rey warned her husband. They’d been at the potluck for a good twenty minutes, saying their hellos and dropping off the cake with Jyn in the kitchen. Rey and Ben did their best to clean up nicely, choosing to remain business casual—a state of dress neither usually wore, more often than not in work clothes. But the rare occasion allowed Rey to wear a summer dress she’d been hoarding in the back of her closet and Ben to wear something other than his flannels and paint stained denim—like a blue button-up shirt she swore he wore maybe twice in his life and a pair of trousers that weren’t ruined beyond repair.

Most of the other guests had arrived, already well into their own glasses of wine, coffee, or tea. Luckily, Rey had not caught sight of Ben’s parents, then again there were a few neighbors still missing from the bunch, this the case on most potluck nights. Several of their neighbors liked to arrive as late as possible before announcements, as though to make a statement.

She didn’t understand it, neither did Ben, but they suffered through it together. After all they were one of the few families on the block who had kids, the Tico-Hux’s and Dameron’s the few in their little circle.

Bumping his shoulder, Rey picked up a paper cup and served herself tea. “Come on. Lighten up. We eat, we hear announcements, we share our two cents then we leave. Easy-peasy.”

Ben glanced down at her with a small smile. “‘Easy-peasy’?”

“Yes, easy-peasy.”

He shook his head, but didn’t argue. Instead, he fserved himself coffee. As he poured a generous amount of creamer into his cup, someone came up on the other side of him, reaching for their own cup.

“Blech—can we get some fruit punch here?” Poe grumbled, serving himself some iced tea. He was still dressed in his suit from work, no doubt coming from the real estate office.

“It’s an adult party Dameron,” Ben reminded him, “with adults. Who would rather drink coffee or wine than sugar infested water.”

“At the end of the day, aren’t they all the same thing?” Poe shot back, his charm lodging right back into place, as though Ben complimented him rather than insulted.

“No,” Rey said, leaning past Ben to wave in greeting, “no it’s not Poe.”

He chuckled at the two, taking a sip of his tea. “Glad to see you two came. I would have shot myself in the foot if no one I knew showed up.”

“We all know each other,” Rey nodded to the elderly couple in the corner of the room, “look there are the San Tekkas. And then the Andor-Ersos, and—”

“My god, the lumberjack actually owns a button-up.”

The three turned around to find, Rose and Armitage—or rather Hux, as he liked to go by—joining their little group. The shorter of the two swatted her husband, scowling. “Armie—of course Ben owns a button-up. And what did I say about being nice?”

Hux rolled his eyes. Then a forced, cringe-worth smile grace his face. “Hello _friends_.”

Rey snorted into her tea, Ben hiding his own mirth behind his cup. Hux wasn’t necessarily their friend, but a friend by association. Rose had been Rey’s roommate back in university, before Ben came into the picture. Tico-Huxs home had been her and Ben’s first renovation together once starting their business, some odd seven years ago. Naturally, Hux came into their fold when he married Rose, and then firmly cemented himself in their lives when the marriage lasted longer than anyone expected and a baby came into the picture three years ago, followed by another less than four months ago.

Poe clapped him on the back, grinning like a fool. “Ah, _Hugs_. Long time no see. How is the stay-at-home Dad gig going?”

“Shut up,” Hux muttered, exhaustion seeped into each syllable. He turned to his wife, softer. “I’ll get us some food. Something salty?”

“Yes please!” Rose called after him, Hux already beelining to the kitchen before she could answer. They watched as Hux ambled off, a slouch to the man’s gate. Once he was out of an earshot, Rose turned to them, grave. “He has been slowly turning into a husk of man and this is the first night we have gotten out in weeks, so don’t fuck it up for us, got it?”

Silence fell over them, all suddenly consumed with their drinks.

“Got it,” Ben uttered, the first to speak up. Poe peered up at him, surprised at the calm yet subtle defense Ben exuded. “I remember what it is like being a stay-at-home dad. It’s tough, especially when you leave an office job.” He peered down at Rose, who seemed to relax a little at his comment. “It gets easier. Just give him and yourself some time.”

Rey felt a smile form at his words, she leaning lightly against her husband in comfort. When they first started fostering, a tough choice was made; Ben decided to leave the residential architect firm he worked for the last few years since he left commercial, and focus on their growing family. A choice that ultimately led them to their own business, but a difficult one to make at the time. If anyone empathized with Hux, is was Ben.

Just as Hux came back, Poe launched into a discussion about the latest show he’d been binge watching with his family— _Ozark_. “I think I’d make the same decision as Jason Bateman.”

“You do realize that is not his character’s name right?” Rey joked, before taking a sip of her drink. Discreetly, she checked her watch as she did so. Just half past seven—the night could not have been going any slower. The plan was to come and go; be quick, say hello, get out. If they were lucky the kids would be getting ready for bed and it would just be them…and they could finally get decent night’s worth of sleep.

“Of course I know, but I am not going to spend time memorizing character names when they might be killed off, Rey.”

“Right, because that makes perfect sense,” Ben nodded sagely, clearly mocking the man.

Poe huffed, ready to argue his logic when his lilac haired wife looped her arm with his. “Not causing any trouble dear?”

“Of course not,” Poe turned to her, pressing a smacking kiss to her cheek. Amilyn tsked, but took the affection readily. “Just telling them about _Ozark_ —”

“You are still on about that?” Amilyn chastised. “You are just as bad as Will. I honestly don’t understand—”

Rey’s brain then caught up with the moment. But Ben was already on the same wave length, cutting into the conversation in lightening speed. “Wait-wait-wait—” he turned to Amilyn, face contorted into deep confusion, “aren’t you supposed to be at home?”

Amilyn blinked, lost on the accusation. “No…” she drawled out. “Why?”

“Because Lizzie told us she was going to your house. She and Will were going to watch movies. She said _you’d_ be there,” Rey rushed out, her mind already starting to connect the dots.

Amilyn shook her head. “No, Will said he was going to your house to watch movies.”

“Lizzie left before we left.”

“Will left before we left,” Poe said, eyes widening. “You don’t think—”

“Of course they are together, Poe!” Ben snapped, about to pop a vein. He was already pulling out his phone and opening the ‘Find My Friends’ app, not bothering to call or text their daughter to confirm her whereabouts. “When I find them I’ll—”

“Great, you are all in one spot!” Jyn announced as she came to their group. “I’ve been introducing our new neighbors to everyone,” she gestured behind her, motioning for the couple to come closer—

“ _Fuck_ ,” Ben muttered under his breath at the sight of his parents. His grip on his phone tightened, Rey afraid he’d crack the screen. Their family plan didn’t have another phone upgrade for another month, Rey taking their latest one when a fussy Max threw her phone down into the full bathtub.

At least Han and Leia looked as awkward as Rey felt.

Looking anywhere but at Rey and Ben, Leia smiled to the other guests. Han tried to do the same, but his eyes continued to drift to Ben, this perhaps the first time in over twenty years he’d seen his son in a close proximity.

“You two probably already know Rey and Ben,” Jyn gestured to the two. Rey refrained a wince at the casualness of the utterly understated yet false statement.

“Of course,” Leia said, acting as though they were just any other couple. Acting as though her Ben was not her son. A son she neglected and ignored for years. One she was too much of a coward to reach out to, year after year.

A woman who looked at him like she didn’t recognize him. Like a stranger.

Rey’s blood boiled at the thought.

“Yes, we know each other,” Rey said, not realizing she was speaking until all eyes were on her. “Practically like family now, aren’t we?”

Leia’s smile tightened, eyes finally meeting Rey’s. “Right, like family.”

“I can’t fucking do this right now.” Ben marched past the two, face pale.

He barely made it past them, before he ran to the nearest trash bin—

And proceeded to vomit.

Well, shit. If the night could not get worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Ben. The stress of it all is getting to him.
> 
> And see? We are learning a little bit more and more about Rey and Ben as we go :) One day we will see how they met. One day. The mutual friend who introduced them was at the potluck....
> 
> Also did you guys catch the other couples? Some GingerRose and Poldo thrown into the mix ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! Comments and kudos are always appreciated; love discussing the fic with readers :D


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